Arrows
by Baliansword
Summary: Tension continues to tear Alexander and Hephaestion apart after Hephaestion finds that the king he once supported, and the man he once loved, are changing the farther East they travel. Violence. Sexual Content in later chapters. R&R. Pairings are secret!
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Arrows**

Author: **Baliansword**

Chapter: **1** of unknown

Rating: As always, for anyone who wants to read, but there very well could be some mature, adult situations.

**A/N**: Hi everyone, I recently deleted the original start of Arrows. I've started over; the first two chapters are the same but everything else I post is new writing. Sorry that I haven't been here for so long! Read and Review, and as always, thanks for reading and I hope you like it! ~Michelle.

**A/N**: Yes, Cassander was not on these campaigns but his presence always make the tension in these stories a bit more entertaining.

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The sun was hot against his skin, seemingly searing the dry, cracked skin that already covered his shoulders and most of his chest, back, and torso. Sweat still beaded on his forehead and the rest of his body and the longer they rode the more the sweat had sunken into his open wounds that were still on his hands, knees, elbows –they didn't cover his entire body but at the same time he truly felt as if they did. Pushing past the pain was the only thing that he could do to go on so this is what the general did. He remained still, eyes fixed on the horizon, and as he came around the great bend in the trodden jungle path it seemed that all went silent and still. He could no longer hear the soldiers behind him or the rustling in the trees, and the sun disappeared as did his wounds momentarily while a head slightly turned and darkened eyes met his.

The others' lips parted for a split second. He went from leaning over a table with a smile as he teased a page beside him to a rigid vertical space in the distance, brows furrowed together, smile subsiding back into a tightened frown. There was very little that he could have said to the general as he approached on the horse, but the kind would have, had there not been so many others present. In fact, he would have thrown his arms around him and pulled him close –he was glad to have him back. The general was not how he had left though, he seemed instead the other image's opposite. Whereas when he had gone he was orderly, no wounds, eyes sparkling, he had returned solemn it seemed, silent, eyes slightly defeated, his body broken and battered. The pen that had been in the king's hand fell to the ground and he took a few slow steps forward and stopped, still staring at Hephaestion as he dismounted.

As the general turned his back to Alexander, handing the reins to a younger page, the king was able to see the deep gouge on his back left shoulder blade. The wound was dirty, having been unclean for days, and Alexander thought for a moment that he had never seen a brighter shade of red –nothing could compare to the drop of blood that seeped out from the wound and slid down the rest of his back. Alexander had seen wounds, appreciated them even as tests and trials of war, but on Hephaestion they were different. Hephaestion had turned though, his jaw tight and covered by a small beard as he approached, and Alexander had only a split second to see the splinter of wood that was still stuck within the flesh of the wound, bobbing as Hephaestion walked forward.

"It has been done," Hephaestion should have said, had he not felt as if his throat were closing around him. He wanted so badly to merely throw his arms around Alexander and inhale the scent of him, have him hold him and reassure him that he was going to be alright, that he would forget all that he had seen in the last two weeks. Yet there was nothing to say and he dipped his chin slightly and then stepped past Alexander and toward a physician, who had already been called as Rumor spread throughout the camp of his returning state. Alexander did not follow. His eyes fixed themselves on the next man who approached as Hephaestion was lead away. The second general stopped before his king and even though he said nothing he was saying everything that Hephaestion denied himself the liberty of saying aloud.

"I did not ask him to take this task," Alexander said, his voice low so that no others could hear him as he spoke. As soon as he had said the words he would have gladly taken them back, because they were harsh. He also knew that they were rather untrue as well, for even though he had not sat down and asked Hephaestion, he had known since the first moment of mentioning it, of thinking it really, that Hephaestion was going to participate. The second general was calculative, and knew precisely when his words were needed. He reached out and clapped a hand on Alexander's bronzed shoulder and then moved away. As he did Alexander reached out, a commanding arms forcing Cassander to stop where he was.

"What happened," the king asked and Cassander turned slightly to face him. He drew in a breath and then slowly shook his head, showing his disappointment. For Cassander to have been disappointed it must have been an indescribable ordeal, because of all of the generals Cassander was the one who was always out for blood. He had approved of Alexander's orders from the beginning, had wanted the very outcome from the moment that they had taken the prisoners, and now he did not. Cassander in turn kept his voice low but his eyes remained piercing.

"Did you look at those captives?" he asked, one brow raised slightly even in his anger. "Did you walk through each of them and determine who was to live and die? You sent amongst the group warriors, true, but you sent also children. Boys. They were nothing to me, but to the only one amongst us that had any heart left they were still children. Who do you think looked after them on the way there, caring for them like a father, assuring the youngest that it would be okay? Who do you think took their lives?"

Cassander said no more. He walked away then, Alexander unable to retain him. The king paused for only a few moments before he turned around and made his way toward the physician's tent. As soon as he entered everyone seemed to freeze, apart from Lorikus, who was still wiping dried flakes of blood away from Hephaestion's exposed shoulder blade. The layer of skin that was missing was substantial, and there was more carnage exposed now that Alexander had not seen before. The physician pulled the remnants of a leaf out of the wound and then _tsk_ed the general before he placed it on a page's outstretched hand. The page seemed slow in his movements, unsure of why his king was watching him. Hephaestion remained still, unmoving as he lay on his chest and the physician dug into the wound. Finally Alexander could stand the silence no more and ordered the physicians out –luckily Hephaestion was currently their only patient. Lorikus seemed as if he considered staying but in the end he placed a gentle hand on Hephaestion's head, patted as if he were some sort of pet, and then sauntered away as Alexander crossed his arms over his chest. The silence only returned.

"Say what you have to say," Hephaestion murmured, clearly in some pain but he was unwilling to admit that fact. Instead he turned his head so that he stared at the side of the tent, not Alexander. There was more silence, more pain, and finally Alexander sat down on the stool that Lorikus had left behind. He picked up the watered cloth and draped it over Hephaestion's shoulder, careful not to touch him. Hephaestion tensed underneath the pressure of his hand. Even as Alexander pulled his hand up, leaving only his fingers gently resting against the broken flesh, the general tensed and attempted to shift away. The king did not let him.

He slid his hand down to the small of Hephaestion's back and rested it where his back dipped down, just before rolling like a hill to the curve of his buttocks. With his other hand he moved the cloth, but he was a poor impression of a physician and soon stopped. The hand that he rested on the small of Hephaestion's back seemed to warm and he rubbed gently, hand sliding back and forth as the body beneath it attempted not to tense or squirm. After setting the cloth back into the water basin Alexander moved his hand to Hephaestion's hair. Tangled, matted, bloodied, it did not matter. It was still the softest hair he had ever touched. As he stroked his hair Hephaestion let out a breath so full of tension Alexander felt it in his bones.

"What makes you think I have something to say?" Alexander asked. Hephaestion still did not look at the king. Instead he flexed his unwounded shoulder before pushing himself up. Alexander let him slide off of the cot and walk to a bench where he picked up a Persian robe. Every muscle in Alexander's body began to tighten as the silk slid over Hephaestion's bare back. There was one muscle in particular that ached with more need than the rest, but he swallowed and tried to lock the anguish away as he had been doing for months. It was only after he had tied the front of the golden lined red silk that Hephaestion turned around to face him.

"I know you," he answered. "You have a look."

"I want to know why you went with Cassander." Hephaestion stared back at him for a silent minute, as if to determine what it was Alexander really wanted to know. There was a lingering accusation hidden beneath what Alexander had been bold enough to say aloud. Hephaestion wanted to tell him that he hadn't "gone" anywhere with Cassander. Despite this, had he decided to go somewhere "with" Cassander he should be able to do so without needing Alexander's approval.

"I do not trust Cassander to carry out your orders, remember that you don't either," he answered, hoping to stop Alexander's rant before it began. Alexander sucked in a breath but he didn't let the conversation calm down in the slightest.

"Fine," he sighed, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes. "Do whatever you want Hephaestion, disobey my orders openly. Why wouldn't you? I've never treated you harshly before so why would I now! You're like a child, a child without discipline. Half of the army despises me, and now I have revolting generals. Perfect!"

Hephaestion had liked it better when he could avoid looking at Alexander. It was far less depressing to have to watch him make and ass of himself in comparison to merely hearing him do it. With nothing left to say he moved past Alexander, leaving him sitting in the physician's tent. Outside the camp seemed to have noted his return, and men glanced up from their daily activities to stare at him. Ignoring their stares, the general made his way back to his tent, which was surprisingly already raised. He thanked the few pages standing outside, finishing unrolling bedding, and grabbed a blanket and entered the tent. Taking the blanket he shrugged the Persian robe from his shoulders and wrapped himself instead in the blanket. After doing so he started to lay down before he heard Alexander approaching outside. He had not heard him stomp so furiously in a month, but he knew this apart from any other.

"My words were harsh," Alexander said as he entered, forgetting to invite himself. He had a habit of this and Hephaestion ignored it instead of creating a new rift between them. "I have been through a great deal of stress, and I haven't slept much. I was worried about you. I don't want you spending time with Cassander if it is not necessary either. You're right, I don't trust him."

"You don't trust me?"

"I have never said that. I said I did not want you spending time with Cassander, just as I would have preferred if you did not involve yourself in dispatching the prisoners. Stop turning my words against me Hephaestion."

"Get out Alexander."

"If you do not tell me, I will ask Cassander."

"Then ask him," Hephaestion said, turning his back to Alexander. He heard no movement behind him and glanced over his shoulder. "Are you leaving?"

Defeated, Alexander did exactly that.

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A/N: Please read and review. I will attempt to get the second chapter up shortly –it will be the beginning of a few flashback chapters where you can see where the conflict between Alexander and Hephaestion begins. Thanks for reading! ~Baliansword


	2. Chapter 2

Title: **Arrows**

Author: **Baliansword**

Chapter: **2** of unknown

Rating: As always, for anyone who wants to read, but there very well could be some mature, adult situations.

**Notes**: If you haven't read chapter one…go do that. This is set before the first chapter, which will hopefully answer all of your questions about what Hephaestion did.

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_Days Earlier…_

The rain had not stopped for three days, creating mud that caused the men to slip as they approached a nearby clearing. Cold water had seeped through his clothes, and the general wanted nothing more than to find shelter and hide beneath a fur blanket. Hephaestion watched the young soldiers as they sat down in a small circle, Cassander watching over them with his lips drawn tightly together. If there was one amongst them that had no qualms with the rain it would be Cassander, likely because he was already cold-blooded. The more benevolent general turned and looked at Alexander, who was speaking with Craterus, wiping water away from his face as he motioned that this is where they would build a temporary camp. Rising, Hephaestion walked towards Cassander, grabbing his hand before he could slap one of the prisoners. As soon as he had his hand around Cassander's wrist he locked eyes with him and Cassander yanked his arm back.

"You should remember that you are not king," Cassander said as he pulled his arm away. He wiped water from his face and then clapped Hephaestion on the shoulder. "You look worried, pale even. Go help the pages make your tent –I will watch them."

"No," he disagreed, "I don't plan on leaving you alone with them. They may be prisoners, Cassander, but they're not posts to practice your beatings on. Do not touch them unless ordered, do you understand?"

"Thank Zeus I did not grow up in Athens," Cassander muttered under his breath as he sat down. A nearby page supplied him with a drink but Hephaestion waved his hand away when he was offered one. As he did he noticed one of the prisoners was staring at him, his dark eyes transfixed on something. Hephaestion reached down and touched a small pendant he wore around his neck on a dark leather cord –a gift from Alexander before they had departed from Pella. As he touched the pendant the prisoner nodded, then looked away.

An hour later the tents had been erected and Alexander had called his Companions into his. Hephaestion had pulled his damp hair behind his shoulders but he still felt drops of water rolling down his back as he sat down. It was a small irritation, but he ignored it as Alexander sat and began speaking. His voice was ragged from the days' ride, having shouted orders back and forth between generals, but Hephaestion barely noticed. Instead he found himself listening to the undecipherable chatter outside of the tent. The voices of the prisoners seemed to drown out the rain, which had slowed to a soft drizzle.

"What do we do with them?" Cassander asked, tearing small pieces of bread and eating them in between his conversation with Alexander and the other Companions. This drew Hephaestion's attention, for he realized that he must have missed several moments of conversation.

"They speak one of the barbaric languages," Nearchus informed the others. "I have asked several of the company we have taken from Babylon, and they do not know it. There is no way to communicate with them."

"You're sure,?" Hephaestion asked from his seat. Suddenly several pairs of eyes were looking at him, including Alexander's. Alexander leaned back in his seat, as if somewhat annoyed that Hephaestion had something to say. Cassander smirked from where he sat but did not say anything.

"Dispatch them," one of the generals said, causing Hephaestion to look up. He shook his head slightly at Alexander, but the king made no note of his movement. Instead he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts and he nodded slowly. A moment later he cleared his throat before agreeing. There was very little that Hephaestion could have said. Instead he waited for Cassander to rise, as he was always the first, and once he began to walk off Hephaestion swiftly followed. Seconds later Alexander had entered his tent and stared at him with his arms crossed over his chest, saying nothing. Hephaestion stared back at him. After a few moments he sat, but Alexander still saw his anger.

"What would you like me to do with them?" Alexander sighed, collapsing down on a chair. He ran a hand through his hair but kept his eyes on Hephaestion the entire time. Hephaestion said nothing and Alexander was forced to ask again.

"When did you begin dispatching children?"

"Prisoners," Alexander corrected.

"Alexander, at least two of those boys are fourteen. They could be put to some sort of work, there is a place for them somewhere. You would rather have them killed?"

"They will grow to be our enemies."

"Really? And what about the others that you have brought this far, are they going to grow to be enemies as well? What of Bagoas?" he asked, his voice betraying his burning hatred for Alexander's latest attraction. "Will he end up being an enemy as well?"

"The others are learning Hephaestion, these boys are different. They have been taught to hate us from their birth, they hate everyone outside of their villages. Why are you arguing with me?" he snapped bitterly.

Hephaestion shrugged, "I was unaware I was. I was merely bringing something to your attention. When we set out on this venture, there were limits. You said you were not going to be like Philip, but here you are, killing children so that you don't need to find a way to feed them."

"They are not your concern!" Alexander shouted, rising from the chair and looking down at Hephaestion where he still sat. "I will have Cassander deal with it. Stop complaining and judging me on everything I do."

Hephaestion watched him go, feeling as if he had become the only enemy that Alexander had not yet decided to kill. Listening to the downpour outside, he lay back and closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would soon come. He was not so lucky.

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Cassander was cleaning his sword when Hephaestion entered his tent. He had left the previous day's stubble on his face, which Cassander had always found more appealing. It brought out a depth that otherwise was lost upon the Chilliarch –as if the difference was from adolescent youth playing general to a rugged general willing to defend his king. He glanced up at him for only a moment, and then looked back down at his sword as he polished the rest of the silver blade.

"I was told not to allow you to come," Cassander admitted, sarcasm in his tone. "I am surprised that he does not have a page diligently following you and reporting your every movement."

"He is not my father."

"Through experience I have found that lovers are often worse than parents." Cassander set his finished sword down and looked up at Hephaestion. He could see the frustration behind his cerulean eyes and part of him struggled with the advice he should give him. If it were him, he would march up to Alexander and hit him as hard as he could in the face. A black eye would not kill the king, but it would be a reminder of Hephaestion's dissatisfaction. He would have told him to do it, but he knew that Hephaestion was close to losing his mind already. Not to mention, Alexander would likely be so surprised he would probably have Hephaestion killed and only think better of it a few hours after.

"Of course," Cassander raised an eyebrow, "if for some reason I fail to see you riding beside me, then you're more than welcome to sneak out. My neck has been rather stiff lately, ride to my right. But before you make your decision, remember what the task at hand is. I'm not sure it is for you."

"I want to go."

"Wanting to go and cutting off a head are very distant from one another."

Hephaestion drew his sword and set it down on the top of the table with a clanking sound. He then said, "I will gladly behead you and take your place if necessary, Cassander. Last I checked you were fond of your head."

"Fine, we leave in twenty minutes," Cassander said with a quick smirk. He added, "When Alexander hears of this remind him that I had no part in your decision. I did not coerce you, did not speak to you before hand, and I did not see you."

"I have kept your secrets for years, I can keep one more."

Hephaestion nodded and found himself standing outside of Cassander's tent, watching the other side of the camp. Wearing a dark-colored chiton Alexander had emerged from his tent and was working with one of the scribes. Despite the warning from Cassander, Hephaestion crossed the distance between them. It would be more natural for Alexander to see him before he made his escape. He knew Alexander, knew that he would only begin to worry about him if he was absent. As he stepped past Alexander their eyes met momentarily and Hephaestion stepped into the king's tent. Seconds later Alexander entered, suspicion momentarily overcoming a slight smile, but it faded when Hephaestion offered a smile in return.

"You have forgiven me already?"

"Sleep has a way of changing things," Hephaestion offered, shrugging slightly as Alexander came closer. He reached out and put a hand on Alexander's cheek and leaned in to kiss him. For months they had not touched in such a manner. This change in their relationship came from several changes, including Alexander's duty to Roxanne, and perhaps Bagoas. This morning was different, it had to be. While Alexander thought that he was giving him a kiss that would initiate more, Hephaestion knew that he was kissing him goodbye.

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A/N: As always, I welcome reviews. I know that these chapters are a little short, but I've decided I would rather offer a few shorter chapters than nothing at all. Thanks again for reading, it is appreciated! ~Baliansword


	3. Chapter 3

Title: **Arrows**

Author: **Baliansword**

Chapter: **3** of unknown

Rating: As promised there is going to be some mature content here. **Graphic** **violence**!

**Notes**:

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_Days Earlier…._

Hephaestion cut another sliver from the fruit he held in his hand and offered it to yet another awaiting hand. Unlike men, children had no qualms about eating from enemy forces if their stomachs growled. So far there had only been one child that would not accept his offerings. One of the youngest of the group, whom Hephaestion estimated was no older than twelve or thirteen, eyed him with suspicion that the others had traded in for curiosity and appreciation. Even as Hephaestion cut another sliver and handed it to another outstretched, dirty hand this child sat back, dark eyes focused once more on the leather cord around the general's neck. Hephaestion glanced down and reached for the cord, removing it from his neck with a swift jerk. He held it out, pendant swinging back and forth in the air, but the boy did not move. He did not blink. He simply stared. The general set the pendant on the ground and went back to cutting the fruit, well aware that Cassander was approaching.

"I thought we discussed this," Cassander said as he approached. "It won't better your position to become attached to them. Involvement leads to attachment. They're like Alexander's damned monkeys, feed them and they keep wanting to be fed –and they do nothing in return."

"They're not monkeys," Hephaestion replied firmly, handing another piece of fruit out. "They are hungry. I am not hungry. I'm sure Alexander would be displeased if he heard we were letting food go to waste."

"You think his is disappointed by rotting fruit?" Cassander laughed, shaking his head at Hephaestion's side. "He has sent word again that you are to return to him. Unfortunately, I misplaced the letter, so you can stay if you would like. Part of me is tempted to have you return if you keep feeding them –I mean it, just like monkeys."

Hephaestion watched Cassander walk away. There was not the slightest air of conscience following the blood-thirsty general. Sighing, Hephaestion turned his attention back to the small group of children –he could not bring himself to call them prisoners. He noted that his pendant no longer sat in the dirt. Instead, the silent boy had picked it up and was now turning it in his hand, watching as the light glinted off of the metal. When he realized that Hephaestion was staring at him he stopped and held the pendant behind his back.

"You can keep it," Hephaestion said, finishing the last slice of fruit and handing it to the last of the children. The dark eyed boy pulled the pendant from behind his back and turned it over in his hand several times. Hephaestion continued to watch him, unconcerned with his actions. They were children, and even if they were to be enemies in a few years, they were nonetheless children.

"Where is it from?" the boy finally asked, looking up at Hephaestion. While the words themselves sounded awkward when the boy spoke them, it was clear that he understood their meaning, and that he was trying to communicate. Hephaestion could not help but smile slightly as he set the knife down.

"You understand our language?" he asked, wondering if the child had understood what Cassander had said about Alexander's monkeys.

"Some words, not all."

"Where did you learn?"

It was clear enough that the boy did not trust him, and by asking his last question all of the boy's defensive walls were back up. He refused to trust him and Alexander was right about one thing, these children had been taught to be wary. They had been taught perhaps not to hate, but indefinitely to keep the secrets of their villages. Hephaestion thought for a moment, and then continued to look at his hands. They were rough and calloused, something that his late father would be proud of, but something that Hephaestion was indifferent to. Half of the time he thought his marred flesh was a sign of having done something with his life, of being on these campaigns with Alexander, yet most of the time he thought of them as reminders of the haunting images that plagued his nights.

"You are not like the other man," the boy said, running his finger over the pendant. He looked up, and for a moment reminded Hephaestion of Bagoas. They were similar in appearance, and if Bagoas had been a warrior instead of...whatever it was his official title was...then he could have been this child. Hephaestion blinked and then shrugged slightly. He supposed that it would not hurt to agree with the boy. In truth, he was nothing like Cassander, or at least he hoped no one thought that he was. The farther they trekked west however, the more he thought he was like Cassander, another plague on his sanity as of recently.

"Your king, he keeps the monkey in a cage. Why?"

"We do not have them where we are from, in Macedonia. They are interesting to us. I helped catch some, to see what they were, and we have had them ever since. My king thought of them as a gift."

"Your king, you give him gifts. We give our highest man gifts as well when he tells us what it is we are to do. He does not give us back a gift. But your king is different my father says. He gives you a wife and coins when you do his work."

"Yes, some of us get things like that."

"He gives you things because you are his favorite. That is why he gave you this," the boy said, holding the pendant up and once again began examining it.

"I'm not his favorite," Hephaestion disagreed, hoping that the boy did not know about his relationship with Alexander. "He has given other things like that to other generals. It is his way of thanking us for," he paused, "helping him."

The boy nodded and said nothing else but Hephaestion could tell that he did not believe him. If the boy knew about the relationship, he said nothing more. Perhaps the pendant merely looked like something the boy was familiar with, something that their leader would give to his favorite. Either way, Hephaestion stood and decided to speak with Cassander. He did not want Alexander coming for him, and he did not want Cassander to be punished for misplacing Alexander's demands. Neither would be helpful. Yet when he went to Cassander's tent the general was not there it was not until he returned to his own tent that he found Cassander, who had made himself rather comfortable on a pile of furs that Hephaestion had salvaged from the constant rains.

"I see that you are done mothering the prisoners."

"Under different circumstances those children could have grown to be our captors. I wonder if they would be as kind as you are."

"I try," Cassander sighed, "to make it through this world. When I'm dead, I'll worry about the next world. But the world in which we do not rule, well my friend, it does not exist. It would be like saying in a different world you and I could have been friends. I think you should get some sleep, clear your head."

"What are you doing here?" Hephaestion asked, noting that even though Cassander suggested for him to get some sleep he was not leaving. Not to mention, Cassander's presence in his tent in the first place was odd.

"I'm trading tents with you."

Hephaestion smirked. "I thought when we started making camp that you picked the best location."

"I did," Cassander agreed. "I'm keeping my tent, and for a few hours, I'm going to borrow this area of your tent. Believe me, I would rather be in my tent, but unfortunately there is a great deal of _noise_ coming from nearby tents."

Hephaestion rolled his eyes and reached for one of the furs. Cassander met his eyes momentarily before handing him one of his blankets. If he wanted a reaction, Hephaestion was not going to give it to him. Instead, he threw the fur down and sat down. As long as Cassander was in his tent, he did not want to leave him to go through his things, granted he had nothing that Cassander would find interesting. Hephaestion watched as Cassander continued writing, using a makeshift desk that reminded Hephaestion of Aristotle, his beloved teacher. Hephaestion looked away, unwilling to think about Pella now. The more he thought of home, the more he missed it.

"I came to ask you something," Cassander finally said after ten minutes of silence. He looked up from the papyrus he was writing on. "When you said that you kept my secrets, what were you talking about?"

"Secrets, things that you do not want others to know, things that would make you look bad in front of the king. You are not the only one that can gain information on others," Hephaestion said, reaching for his copy of the _Iliad_ that he had kept with him since Alexander had found another copy in Pella. It was in better condition than Alexander's copy, not because it was less read, but because Hephaestion kept his copy hidden in a small box his mother had bequeathed to him. He reached for it not because he had the sudden desire to read Homer's words, but rather because he wanted to keep it as far away from Cassander as he could.

"I doubt that you have anything that could ever be used against me."

"Then you wouldn't be here."

"I'll be here until Archus and Ianus stop their moans of ecstasy."

"There is a Companion amongst us that suggested you hated anything sensual because it reminded you of happiness you never have been able to find. If you don't mind me asking, does the happiness of others bother you that much?"

"Ha!" Cassander laughed. "Do not put your philosophical trust in anything Ptolemy says about me. I have been happy several times in my life, and I am fine with others. I could care less where your dick goes Hephaestion, as I care nothing for where Archus and Ianus put their dicks -but when it interrupts my sleep, you're right, I don't like it."

The silence enveloped them once more. This time it bothered Hephaestion more, to not know what Cassander was thinking. There had been months of nothing but silence when he'd returned to his tent, nothing but silence and thoughts that would go unanswered as Alexander found himself obliged to keep Roxanne company. Hephaestion understood, and in truth, prayed that Alexander had an heir. At least then the constant worry of not having a son to follow in his footsteps would be lifted. Nonetheless, the silence seemed to threaten to consume Hephaestion on those nights as it did now.

"May I ask you something?"

"What?" Cassander answered, once again turning his attention away from his papers and back to Hephaestion. Even though Hephaestion knew that Cassander's answer would likely be callous, there had been a question nagging at him.

"Are we monsters?"

"That," Cassander mused, "has always been inevitable."

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A/N: As always, feel free to read and review. Hopefully I'll be able to keep updating regularly, as not to leave such a lag in posts. Thanks again to all of my readers. ~Baliansword


	4. Chapter 4

Title: **Arrows**

Author: **Baliansword**

Chapter: **4** of unknown

Rating: As always, for anyone who wants to read, but there very well could be some mature, adult situations.

**Notes**: If you absolutely hate Cassander...you may find yourself beginning to at least understand him by the end of this story. But for now, feel free to continue hating him.

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Hephaestion sat up and quickly rubbed his hand over his eyes,taking in the new surroundings, unsure of how long he had slept for. He could hear the rain muddying the ground outside of the tent, the sound of the horses pawing at the ground, and he felt the drop in temperature. Rain was deplorable, one of the first ways to ruin morale amongst Alexander's camps, but Hephaestion was glad that the humidity had subsided. The general glanced to the center of the tent, almost unsurprised to see that Cassander's belongings were still stretched out across his cot. Ink sat opened on top of the papyrus that he'd been scratching on throughout the night and the furs looked slept upon. Hephaestion stood, set his copy of the _Iliad_ down, which he had continued to hold throughout the night, and then went to pick the ink up before it spilled. As he did, he felt the ground beneath him begin to give way under his steps. Sighing, he picked up the furs, expecting to find them muddied. Fortune must have taken pity on him, because they were still dry. While Hephaestion began to hang the furs Cassander stepped through the small opening in the tent. He said nothing, only retrieved the open ink and papyrus before leaving, clearly still in one of his abysmal moods. A soft laugh escaped Hephaestion, and as he had years ago in Pella, he felt a slight pang of sorrow for Cassander. At times it seemed as if Cassander's way of living life was better -he was cold, calculative, unforgiving, and he seemed to be able to sleep at night. If he was right, and all men were meant to be monsters, at least Cassander was able to decide what type of monster he would be. Was it worse for a man not to know how despicable he was until the end?

While he continued to pick up the mess that Cassander had made, which he found included an empty cup and the remains of pitted fruits, the rain continued to fall outside of the tent. Instinctively, Hephaestion reached for his neck, searching for the pendant that he was used to keeping there. He remembered the dark-eyed boy, and as the thunder rolled above the general frowned. A moment later he stood outside in the elements, the rain pelting his back as he made his way to where the 'prisoners' were being kept. The boys huddled together for warmth, and as Hephaestion approached they began to look at one another in confusion. Hephaestion cast a glance over his shoulder, searching for Cassander or one of the guards he had befriended, but when he did not see them he reached for one of the ropes that bound the children together. After cutting through the rope, he motioned for them to follow. They refused to move, eyeing one another still, confused on what Hephaestion meant. Finally, the boy with the pendant stood and began to follow Hephaestion. As soon as he did, the others followed.

"Tell them to tip that desk over," Hephaestion said, pointing while he spoke to the boy, who had taken to wearing the pendant around his neck. "You can sit on it without having to worry about mud. And you can use those furs," Hephaestion motioned again. "I have to go speak with Cassander, but you can stay here. I'll bring you breakfast back."

"Are you going to tie us back up?" the boy asked.

"No. If there's a mudslide, you may need to move. Until then, you would be best off staying warmer and drier in the tent. It is extremely dark out and even if you decide to run away, I doubt you will find the area navigable. Not to mention, Cassander is still the one that is in charge, so if you run he will chase you. Believe me, he is like a wolf. He will chase you down and he will kill you. Stay here."

"And you, you are not here to kill us?"

Hephaestion did not answer, instead, he left the tent and made his way to Cassander's. When Cassander had picked out his location, Hephaestion suspected that in the event of rain Cassander would somehow manage to remain as dry as possible. This was indeed the case. His tent had been pitched on a flattened area, and the mud slid to either side that had been dug down. Unable to contain a slight laugh, Hephaestion slapped the side of the tent before entering. As he entered he paused. Cassander stood in the center of the room, back to him, completely nude. Hephaestion took a step back, preparing to leave.

"What is it?" Cassander asked, turning, revealing his entire body. Cassander glanced down at his body and snorted. "I have nothing that you have not seen before. In fact, I would assume that I look better as a man than I did as a boy."

Hephaestion turned slightly and pretended to take interest in the table Cassander had placed a large map on. While he looked at the uncompleted map he heard Cassander continuing to dress. Before he answered, he swallowed the lump in the throat.

"Pella seems to fade in my mind," Hephaestion admitted. "I came to inquire about your plans for this mission."

"If you no longer wish to be involved, you are free to return to Alexander's camp. You can stay in your tent without leaving, if you would like. I'm almost certain that having a few days to yourself, without Alexander, would benefit you as much as it would him."

"I only wanted to know how far we need to be from Alexander's camp."

Cassander stared at Hephaestion, carefully examining his cerulean eyes. Hephaestion had always been predictable in his motivations. He would do anything to protect Alexander's reputation, even if that in order to protect him it meant he would need to go against him. Cassander's suspicion had been that Hephaestion had only come on this task at hand in order to find a way to convince him that killing the children was unnecessary. Hephaestion had never considered that there was far more to Alexander's plan. Which was precisely why Alexander had not wanted Hephaestion to leave with Cassander.

"You're thinking again," Cassander decided, quietly reaching for the dagger sitting on his chair. He slid the dagger into the belt at his side, never once taking his eyes from Hephaestion. "Things to go terribly wrong when you start thinking."

"You failed to mention that at Issus."

Cassander went back to dressing, putting on his grieves, which Hephaestion knew could only mean that Cassander planned to go further into the forests. They had gone far enough away from Alexander's camp to execute prisoners. In fact, Alexander seldom required that prisoners to be executed ever be taken away from camp. It made little sense for Alexander to require these 'prisoners' to be different; unless Cassander was planning something that Hephaestion was unaware of. And if Cassander was planning something, Hephaestion had to wonder if Alexander knew anything about the other general's plans. While Cassander pretended to ignore him, Hephaestion cleared his throat.

"What are you planning Cassander?"

"You're really asking me if Alexander has ordered me to continue forward. To that," he answered, "I can assure you, Alexander knows what I'm doing. What he does not know, is why you're here."

"You know that these children do not deserve to be killed! They weren't caught attacking us, they were found in a caravan Cassander. You know that if we do through with this we're monsters, forever. There will be no forgiveness. Can you live knowing that you've killed children?"

"Hephaestion, please, do not meddle where you do not belong. Alexander has come to a decision about the prisoners, there is nothing I can do to change that."

"So you can live with yourself if you do this?"

"Yes," Cassander answered angrily, for the first time showing any emotion. "Yes, I can live with it! I'll have to live with it. You're not here because you're concerned for some children you don't know," he spat, "you're here because you're terrified that Alexander has becomes a man you cannot possibly love!"

"This has nothing to do with Alexander!" Hephaestion shouted back. With the rain outside Hephaestion doubted that anyone would be able to hear their argument.

"Everything you do has _something_ to do with Alexander! If you cannot overlook his indiscretions then he will break you, Hephaestion. He is going to drive you to madness. Go back to your tent Hephaestion. You do not belong here, not truthfully. This is not you."

"As cold as you are," Hephaestion said as he made his way out of the tent, "this is not you either."

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Alexander ran his hand through his hair as he stared down at the papyrus before him. Once more his mother had found a way to make her opinions about his marriage very clear. She had wanted him to marry a nice Macedonian woman, of her choice of course. There was nothing new about this request, and Alexander was not surprised to be reading what seemed like the same words from her last correspondence again. Sighing, he crumpled the first page and turned his attention to the next. The entire time he found himself glancing up every few seconds, hoping that Hephaestion would emerge outside in the rain. So far, no Hephaestion. Giving up momentarily on the idea, he continued reading and found the inevitable paragraph. Olympias had been screaming, beating, and writing her next set of words into his brain since he was sixteen -if not earlier, and he'd managed to block the memory from his mind.

_Let Hephaestion take his own wife, it would be better for both of you, _she wrote. This was a newer argument, but it went back to her main argument. _The time for taking a male lover is over, it is time to produce an heir. Remove Hephaestion from your mind. Remove him from your bed. _

"He has not been in my bed for some time," he mused aloud, frowning as he did. Irritated, he crumpled this piece as well and sat back in his chair. He would have liked to have had Hephaestion with him at that very moment. At least then he would feel safer than he did now, knowing that Cassander was about to attempt a dangerous maneuver that could very well end up causing the deaths of several Macedonian soldiers. Hopefully, the children would draw out the small village's forces, and Cassander could squash them before they attempted to rise against him. However, with Hephaestion now involved, Alexander did not feel comfortable with Cassander's plan. If anything were to happen to Hephaestion, he knew that he would blame Cassander, and that if tragedy struck he would lose two of his top generals. While he sat, thinking, he recalled the promise that he had made to Hephaestion at Chaeronea.

"_If all of my battles are fought this well," _Alexander had boasted amongst his friends, "_then I will be the greatest king Macedonia has ever seen."_

Later, in private, Hephaestion had warned, "_If you are concerned with becoming the greatest king, you will forget to be the wisest king Macedonia has ever had."_

"_They are the same thing."_

"_No," _Hephaestion disagreed, kissing Alexander's hand as he laced their fingers together underneath the pile sheets. "_A wise king thinks his decisions through, he does what is right, and in that he becomes great. A great king chases an adjective, no matter the cost."_

"_You think great kings to be no better than the barbarians to the east then?"_

"_I think that Fate can only direct a king so far before he must make his own destiny. Your men will love you, Alexander, whether you are callous or kind. But none of that matters if you do not love yourself, if you cannot live with your actions."_

"_You're such an Athenian."_

Hephaestion had laughed. "_Maybe I am. But still, I worry for you."_

"_Do not worry for me. I will be a wise king if you are by my side. As long as you still love the man that you see before you, then I will be able to sleep at night."_

Alexander remembered the words, as if they were spoken yesterday. Now he sat alone, staring out at the rain, unable to sleep. Hephaestion had not come to his bed for what seemed like months, apart from the night before he left with Cassander. Alexander knew now that Hephaestion had not come to see him that night, not truly. He had come to make his mind up about him, to assure himself that the Alexander of Chaeronea was gone, lost to a great king who in such had become the callous ruler he'd hated his father for being. Without Hephaestion, he would not sleep. Without Hephaestion, he would not love. Without Hephaestion, he knew that he would never become a wise king, but rather, he would become a monster.

"Alexander," a page said, drawing the king from his thoughts.

"What is it?"

"As you ordered, scouts were sent to confirm that the path General Cassander left on were cleared for his return. They have returned and are speaking with General Ptolemy. He said to come and find you."

Alexander was up in an instant, on his way to find Ptolemy, who knew well enough that Alexander had other things on his mind. As he approached, his friend turned, and Alexander knew that he would not like what Ptolemy had to report.

"The roads are washed away. Debris covers everything. It will be impossible to track Cassander now, and I fear, it may be harder for him to find his way back."

Alexander swallowed. "He has Hephaestion. Hephaestion has always been able to find his way back."

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A/N: As always, review if you have time. I plan to keep posting a chapter a day until this is finished. Thanks again for reading! ~Baliansword


	5. Chapter 5

Title: **Arrows**

Author: **Baliansword**

Chapter: **5** of unknown

Rating: As always, for anyone who wants to read, but there very well could be some mature, adult situations. Also, as promised, some **adult sexual** **content **(eh, maybe teen in today's world) in this chapter.

**Notes**: If you hate Cassander, you may hate him more after this chapter. If you like Cassander (come on, someone out there does!) you may like him more after this chapter. I'll let you make your minds up about it!

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Cassander thought about the prospect of a different world, the world that Hephaestion was so prone to believe could exist. Hephaestion had always been a dreamer, part of the reason that Alexander had been able to suck him in to coming on the campaigns. It was the promise of change that Hephaestion had given in to; he had set aside the thoughts of death until later. As he thought, Cassander crossed his arms over his chest and stared out at the gray world that now surrounded them. Had it ever rained like this in Pella? He could not remember, but he was sure the rain had never been this depressing. For one reason or another, thinking of Hephaestion and watching the rain only made Cassander angry.

Hephaestion was right, in a different world they would have made excellent friends, perhaps even more. In a different world Hephaestion's father would have left his son in Pella, where he could have been instructed on how to becomes a warrior. Instead, Amyntor had taken his son with him to Athens, which had done little good for him, as far as Cassander was concerned. Drawing in a quick breath, Cassander shoved his sword into its sheath and wrapped the belt around his waist. Part of him was not surprised that Hephaestion had left so eagerly after their disagreement, which Cassander was sure would be written down as a 'fight', and even though he had suspected it the action itself had disappointed him. He would have much rather remained fighting with Hephaestion than ending up alone. As he left his tent, the rain having lessened after the hour of downpour, Cassander frowned. His prisoners were missing. However, he had a feeling it would not take a long search before he found them.

"Hephaestion," Cassander called out, but before Hephaestion could exit his tent Cassander was pushing past him. He saw the prisoners, carelessly sharing an overturned table, a chair, Hephaestion's furs, a bowl of what Cassander considered to be mush, and a large plate of fruit. The general turned to face Hephaestion and began to shake his head.

"What is that?"

"My ration for the day," Hephaestion answered. "I'm not starving, whereas they seem to be."

"Get out!" Cassander shouted at the children. They remained frozen, wide eyed, looking to one of the boys. Hephaestion nodded and they all stood, picking up the ropes that had bound them outside as well. Cassander quickly ordered one of the other men to retie them before whirling around and shutting the tent flap. He turned on Hephaestion, shoving him with all of his weight. Hephaestion was knocked off balance but managed to regain his balance before he fell. As he was continuing to steady himself, Cassander balled his fist and lashed out, striking Hephaestion across the mouth.

Hephaestion retaliated, nothing less of what Cassander wanted. Throwing himself at the other general, Hephaestion was able to grab both of Cassander's shoulders, pivoting him away from the exit of the tent. With a quick shove, Hephaestion separated himself from Cassander and reached for his throbbing lip. Pulling his fingers away concluded that he was indeed bleeding, and he soon tasted copper. Hephaestion spit some of the excess blood away and then glared at Cassander. Cassander smirked, tilting his chin up at the cerulean-eyed general. However, Hephaestion did not come at him again. Noting Hephaestion's pause, Cassander let his arms fall to his sides. The tension remained in Hephaestion's stance, but as Cassander approached he relaxed slightly, yet not entirely.

"That was to remind you of your place."

"I am not beneath you," Hephaestion began. Cassander closed the space between them in a split second by grabbing Hephaestion by the back of the neck. He pulled Hephaestion against him and covered his lips with his own. Caught off guard, Hephaestion froze momentarily, yet when Cassander pulled at his bleeding lip with his own, Hephaestion's mouth began to move. The kiss lasted only a few seconds. Hephaestion pulled away, as if his brain decided to remind him that what he was doing was questionable. Even when he pulled away, he seemed confused, and did not move.

"Maybe you're not beneath me," Cassander agreed, "but in a different world, you would be."

Hephaestion slowly shook his head. Even though he had no reason to, he did. Cassander drew in a breath and then released the sigh that he had been holding. He hated Hephaestion. He despised Hephaestion. But every now and then...he thought that maybe he loved Hephaestion.

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Night had fallen. His day was done. Sleep would have been a wonderful end to an otherwise inglorious day. Yet as he sat there, staring at the darkness which surrounded him, he knew that sleep would not come. As the dark-haired man entered his tent, he failed to notice. Even as the draped tent-flap fell shut Alexander failed to look up. In fact, he did not notice the other's presence until he was behind him, hands running across his chest, pulling his robe away.

"Are you distracted?"

"No," Alexander asked, followed by a heavy sigh that fell into him answering, "Yes."

Alexander tried to let himself relax as soft hands wrapped around his chest, lingering over each muscle, while soft kisses began to be pressed against his shoulders. He felt the warmth of the other man's breath as he moved his mouth, sucking gently on his flesh. As tired as he was, there was no question of the erotic feeling that awoke him. The erection was instant and burned with need, with his desire. As he let his head fall back, the hands around him fell away. In the darkness the dark-haired man stepped in front of Alexander. Their eyes met, only for a moment, and then Alexander closed his eyes. The soft hands met his need, followed by a warm, inviting mouth. He wanted for this to be Hephaestion, but it was only Bagoas. But Alexander pushed thoughts of Bagoas from his mind, and thought instead of the man he most desired. His Hephaestion.

"_Alexander," he whispered, carefully entering the dimly lit hallway. It was no secret that the hallway would not be in use, now when Philip was throwing a lavish feast. Not even servants or Olympias' maidens found themselves in these hallways. Still, Hephaestion watched each step he took, and every few feet glanced over his shoulder. When he reached the end of the hallway he paused, unsure of whether he should remain where he was, or if he should take the path to the left or right. He glanced to the right, the dimmer lit smaller hallway, and looked over his shoulder once more. Then, he continued to the right, placing a hand on the wall to guide him. _

"_Alexander," he whispered again, his heart rate elevating. "Alexander where are you!"_

_There was no reply. Hephaestion paused once more and tried to remember the twists and turns of this hallway. If his memory served him correctly, in a few more feet the hallway would dead end entirely -a section of the palace that had never been finished and walled off. Yet there was a dimly burning torch at the end of the corridor, and if he was going to go back he might as well take it with him. Hephaestion kept his hand on the wall and continued, feeling the course stone until his hand touched something else. Something soft, something very much like familiar fabric, and then what was against his fingertips moved away. _

"_Alexander?"_

"_Were you expecting someone else?" a teasing voice asked. A rush of air told Hephaestion that Alexander was now behind him, moving through the darkness as if it were nothing. In truth, Alexander had always had a better ability to navigate the hallways at night, when both were supposed to be asleep. Now, Hephaestion relied on his senses. He chuckled and listened to Alexander's footfalls. Yes, the prince was behind him, still at least an arm's length away, which Hephaestion figured only by holding both hands out and searching for him. _

"_What are you doing? I thought you had something to tell me."_

"_I do," Alexander agreed, his hands suddenly wrapping around Hephaestion's torso. They slipped down to his waist and pulled him backward against him. Hephaestion swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He hated when Alexander was so close, if only for he knew that it would lead to another night of him thinking of Alexander while he slept alone. As he thought of this, Alexander let him go, and placed both hands on his shoulders. He turned him, but Hephaestion could still barely make out the outline of his friend in the darkness. _

"_You couldn't tell me at the feast?"_

"_No. Now take a few steps directly back, so that you can see. You look a little worried."_

"_I doubt you can see what I look like," Hephaestion disagreed. Nevertheless, he took the steps backward that Alexander wanted. As promised the dim light of the burning out torch illuminated Alexander. He looked as handsome as ever, a decorative golden laurel crown sitting atop his golden hair, which was even more vibrant in firelight. Once more Hephaestion thought of how easily he could lean forward and still Alexander's mouth with his. If, that was, Alexander was not his prince. _

"_I don't have to see you to know what you're thinking, what you look like."_

"_Are you going to tell me?" Hephaestion asked, wanting to be as far away from the dark corridor as possible. There was too much temptation here. He needed to go to the feast and drink several cups of wine. Then he could sit and sulk with Cassander, and try to debate Ptolemy, both of which were always more entertaining after wine. _

"_Are you best friend?"_

_The question caught him off-guard. Of course he was, wasn't he? Hephaestion began to think back, reflecting on the last few days that he had spent with Alexander. Had he done something to offend him, to make him think otherwise? Without speaking, he nodded, watching Alexander's eyes to see if the prince would give anything away. _

"_Then you'll tell me the truth, even if it hurts you?"_

"_Yes."_

"_If it hurts me?"_

"_You know that I would," he said firmly. There was something troubling Alexander, he could tell by the way that his dark eyes continued to look him over, as if he were sizing him up. It was almost as if he were trying to make his mind up about something. "Alexander, what do you need to know?"_

_Alexander said nothing, he merely put his hands on Hephaestion's shoulders again and forced him back two more steps. Hephaestion felt his back reach the wall, but he was not afraid. Alexander's movements were gentle, and he was still staring at him, thinking. Hephaestion tilted his head to the side and waited for Alexander to say something. Instead, Alexander let one hand fall from Hephaestion's shoulder to his hip. In a single movement, his other hand wrapped around Hephaestion's throat, while the hand on his hip darted underneath his chiton. Alexander pressed his hand against Hephaestion's erection, forcing Hephaestion to let a moan to escape him. Perhaps Alexander knew, knew what he had been thinking, knew what he had secretly been wanting for months. If he knew, and was displeased, perhaps he had brought him to this secluded area to kill him. He doubted it, but if he'd mentioned it to Philip, well, Philip would have killed him. Hephaestion sucked in a breath and locked eyes with Alexander, who stared at him, his palm still firmly against him. _

"_How long?" Alexander asked. Before Hephaestion could answer Alexander's fingers had snaked around his shaft. He moved his wrist, sliding his palm up once before returning to cupping Hephaestion. Again he asked, "How long?"_

"_Months. You must believe that I did not intend..."_

"_Damn your intentions," Alexander answered. He slid his hand behind Hephaestion's neck and pulled his head forward. He kissed him, kissed him like a man drowning. His hand resumed stroking while Hephaestion's hands desperately tried to grasp any part of Alexander. When the kiss broke, for much needed air, Alexander smiled, pressing his forehead against Hephaestion's. _

"_You knew?" Hephaestion asked. _

"_No, not for sure, not until now."_

"_You're not angry?"_

"_No," Alexander laughed. He ran his fingers over Hephaestion's hardened erection again. "I'm relieved. I can finally stop touching myself and pretending I'm touching you."_

"_You're crude," Hephaestion half-laughed, half-sighed. His voice caught slightly as Alexander stroked him again, bringing him only a few touches away from orgasm. _

"_And you love that about me," Alexander whispered against his shoulder as he kissed him. "And for loving me, I love you -you, and only you, my Hephaestion."_

Alexander moaned as he came. It did not matter that Bagoas was the one between his legs, for he could still pretend that is was Hephaestion. His Hephaestion, who was in the jungle, in the mud and rain, right in the middle of the worst decision Alexander had ever made.

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A/N: Dun dun dun...what can I say, I like cliffhangers. Review if you have time. Thanks for reading! I hope to get more up soon! ~Baliansword. 


	6. Chapter 6

Title: **Arrows**

Author: **Baliansword**

Chapter: **6** of unknown

Rating: As always, for anyone who wants to read, but there very well could be some mature, adult situations. I trust you to regulate yourself, but you're probably mature enough to handle anything I write.

**Notes**: As always, read, review, and (hopefully) enjoy.

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"_Wake up," Alexander whispered, nudging Hephaestion's neck with his nose. Hephaestion chuckled slightly in his sleep and placed his hands over Alexander's, which were resting on his chest. He felt Alexander's chest pressed against his back, warm and inviting. As a smile pulled at his lips Alexander pressed a faint kiss against his shoulder. _

"_You have to go back to Athens today. Your father has been up since sunrise, overseeing things with Philip." Alexander said, trailing a line of kisses down the back of Hephaestion's neck, and onto his back. The wind blew the drapes and a warm ray of sun fell over Hephaestion's forehead. It was then that Hephaestion practically fell out of the bed, suddenly awake and frantic. Alexander sat up and watched as Hephaestion scrambled to pull his chiton over his head. _

"_What are you doing?" Alexander asked, holding back a slight laugh. _

"_If my father goes to find me I won't be in my room. He'll throw a fit. And if your father sees me here, or your mother, they'll drag me through the streets behind Bucephalus."_

"_My mother knows."_

"_What?" It was the first time that Hephaestion had stopped moving since he had rolled out of bed. Alexander had wanted to tell Hephaestion before he left, but he was starting to think that maybe he should have put it off until Hephaestion returned from Athens again. He'd be back in three weeks, it could have waited. He could tell by looking into Hephaestion's cerulean eyes that this revelation was only going to trouble him while he was gone. _

"_I told her that I loved you, it just...slipped out." Hephaestion sat on the edge of the bed, staring silently at Alexander. "You know that if there is something she can do to spite my father, she will do it. What would make her more happy than to help in the depravation of Philip's grandson?"_

"_What if she tells him, just to get a rise out of him?"_

"_She won't Hephaestion, she has always liked you, and the fact that I like you only makes her like you more. That's why she told Amyntor that she sent us out with our friends, to practice our swordsmanship and to give you a chance to say goodbye to everyone."_

"_She told him that?"_

"_Yes," Alexander answered. He reached for Hephaestion and drew him back onto the bed. As Hephaestion lay back Alexander threw a leg over him. Straddling him, he placed Hephaestion's wrists above his head and kissed his forehead. _

"_And since we're not here, there's only one thing to do."_

"_And what is that?" Hephaestion asked, kissing Alexander's chin as he continued to hold him down. Alexander shifted so that only one hand held Hephaestion's wrists. The second reached for the bottom of Hephaestion's chiton, and he began to pull it upwards. _

"_After I undress you," he replied seductively, "I'll show you."_

Hephaestion sat up abruptly, the sound of a rock hitting the side of his tent shattering his dreams of home. As he scrambled to get up, slipping twice in the mud that had soaked the ground beneath him, he heard whimpers outside. He flung the tent open and stepped into the drizzle of rain that had returned overnight. It was still dark outside and the only light came from the dimly burning fires, which had been left unattended by the guards who had fled into tents when the rain began. After all, Cassander's men weren't the type of men that tended fires, they were mercenaries -more or less. Huddled together in the dim light, Hephaestion made out the outline of the child-prisoners. The dark-eyed boy paused, holding the small rock that he still held and waved for Hephaestion to come to them. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, the general approached them.

"I lost track of time," Hephaestion said, kneeling down in front of them. "Here, you can come into my tent. You're soaked to the bone."

"No," the boy hissed, looking frantically over his shoulder. "They are coming. We need to leave. Untie the rope and come with us."

"Who is coming?"

"Our enemies," the boy replied, tugging at the ropes that bound them. "We can hear them, they're coming. They'll kill us. They'll kill you too."

"What enemies?" Hephaestion asked again, confused with the quickness that the boy was speaking in. His dark eyes continued to dart back and forth from the general and the surrounding trees and mud. Whatever he thought was out there was clearly scaring him, but Hephaestion did not know if this was a child's fantasy or something real. Or, were Cassander to have an opinion, the boy could merely be tricking him to attempt an escape.

"They have spears and the spider on their hands. We must leave. They will kill us."

Hephaestion looked over his shoulder. Cassander was leaving his tent and glanced in his direction, appearing as tired as Hephaestion felt. It was obvious that Cassander did not want Hephaestion speaking with the prisoners, but he was not going to tell him to leave either. Instead, he began to make his way to the fire, where he stepped over two sleeping men and tossed another soaked log into the dying fire. The log offered little hope.

"Cassander," Hephaestion said, standing, "wake those men. There's something out there."

"Perhaps Alexander has come for you. You know how he is, once he sets his mind to something..."

"No, something else. An enemy. Wake those men, they'll go with me."

"No," the dark-eyed boy said, reaching up and grabbing his wrist, pulling him back. "You not go. Trust me, they are there, hiding."

"It's probably a trap," Cassander offered, kicking one of the men on the ground. The man moved slightly, about to curse, yet when he saw Cassander he quickly kicked his friend and both stirred to attention. Nevertheless, Cassander ordered them to enter the wet jungles and search for signs of life. They seemed unwilling, but Cassander cut them a look that would break the hardest stone. As they left Cassander offered Hephaestion a frown.

"If they don't find anything, I'm going to break your nose."

Hephaestion ignored Cassander's comment. Instead he stared into the distance and listened. The dull sound of water dripping from the trees would ruin the sound of horses, unless they made noise going through mud or running ravines. Yet the sound of metal swords cutting through the underbrush allowed him to know the general direction of Cassander's men. When the sound stopped, he narrowed his eyes. Silence, apart from the breathing of the children at his side, who squirmed against each other. Then, a scream.

"Attack!"

Cassander tossed his hands up and reached for his sword. He called out to the rest of his men, who for the most part were still pulling on clothes as they departed from their tents. Hephaestion reached for his own sword, only to find that he had left it in his own tent. Cursing, he began to move away from the children when the dark-eyed boy grabbed his wrist again.

"Do not leave!"

"I'll be back, I need my sword to release you."

The child reluctantly let him go and went back to holding another of the boys. Hephaestion rushed past Cassander, who was shouting orders to his men, and into his tent. As he grabbed his sword and arrow pierced through the canvas tent, embedding itself in a chair. Hephaestion reached for his helmet, but the screams of the children outside stilled his hand. With little time, he rushed out of the tent and through the hail of arrows that fell from the sky. The children were covering one another, protecting the younger it seemed, as Hephaestion cut through their ropes. Once they were loose, they began to scatter.

"Tell them to wait," Hephaestion ordered, and the boy immediately began to translate. "We're surrounded. They won't get past them."

Most of the boys remained, but a few continued to flee. As they did, Hephaestion saw an arrow strike one boy in the back. He fell to the ground, only to roll over and be struck again, this time in the throat -a fatal blow even though he still wriggled. Swallowing, Hephaestion looked at the dark-eyed boy.

"Do exactly as I say, tell them."

The boy translated. Hephaestion then grabbed his forearm and ordered him to stay behind him, in a group. He quickly told the others as Hephaestion surveyed the pattern of the arrows. Surrounded was putting the situation mildly. He heard the onslaught of horses, and heard Cassander's orders; none of the orders were directed at him. Hephaestion motioned for the boy to follow, and quickly rushed across the open space to his tent. The boys followed, helping one another along the way, including those who fell in the mud.

"Can you ride a horse?" Hephaestion asked the boy, who clung to the medallion around his neck. The boy nodded, yet the general knew that it was a nervous nod. It would have to do. Telling the boys to stay, Hephaestion made his way to a cart that had been used to haul supplies with Cassander's men on the mission. He quickly pulled back the tarp and motioned for the children to come forward. The dark-eyed boy ran, shouting back to the others. When the approached, Hephaestion told them to get in. The tarp was thicker than the tents, so it would give them some protection.

"Not you," Hephaestion said as he flung the tarp over the others. "Come with me. We're getting a horse, then you take them out of here, do you understand?"

"Do you come?" the boy asked, still following Hephaestion as he avoided arrows. Hephaestion grabbed him and jerked him forward as an arrow threatened to pierce through him. The boy gasped and Hephaestion reached for one of the tied horses, who moved back and forth, sensing the danger around them.

"No, I stay here. But you go, and don't come back. Do you understand? I release you."

"Your King will not be angry?"

"More angry about this horse," Hephaestion said as he released the black mare, a daughter of Bucephalus. She was fast, and one of Alexander's favorites, born from Hephaestion's chestnut mare. When Hephaestion's mare had cut her leg, Alexander had insisted Hephaestion use the black mare until she bettered. If Alexander was going to be angry, it would be at the loss of such an animal.

"Here," Hephaestion said, dragging the boy back to the wagon. He began to latch the horse, throwing on only enough as needed. "You just tell her to go, and she'll go, quickly. Just keep going."

"No! You come!"

"You don't need me," Hephaestion insisted, quickly putting his hands on his hips and tossing him onto horse. He then slapped the mare hard in the hind-quarters and she bolted, more than eager to avoid the arrows. It was as Hephaestion turned that the arrow sunk into his shoulder.

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A/N: As always, reviews are welcomed. In fact, they're encouraged. (Just kidding, I'm stealing that, kind of, from a movie I saw the other night)


	7. Chapter 7

Title: **Arrows**

Author: **Baliansword**

Chapter: **7** of unknown

Rating: As always, for anyone who wants to read, but there very well could be some mature, adult situations. I trust you to regulate yourself, but you're probably mature enough to handle anything I write.

**Notes**: Sorry for the long, long, long pause in writing. A mixture of school, life, and family emergencies took over all of my spare writing time. I hope to get this story back on track. For those of you that have been waiting, and are coming back to read, thank you so much!

Thank you to everyone who sent me little nudges to continue (Trolius especially). It is because of you all that this is being continued.

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The force of the arrow piercing his skin sent him backward several steps but, despite the pain, Hephaestion was able to remain standing. Another arrow threatened to strike his chest and had he not quickly stepped to the side, he feared that the bolt would have struck its intended target. Without hesitation he found a bit of cover, some large barrels that had not been properly stored, and attempted to survey his wound. His shoulder seemed to throb, its muscles tightening fiercely, but he couldn't make out the wound itself. Firmly gripping the excess of the arrow he snapped the wood and threw it to the ground. For a moment the world spun, but the pain subsided after a few moments and Hephaestion poked his head around the barrels. The marksmen had positioned themselves on the crest of a small hill and already Hephaestion could see that they had managed to kill several of Cassander's men.

"Can you shoot?" a voice called out. Hephaestion looked to his side. He spotted Cassander and noted that he had also managed to take a small amount of cover. He held his own sword but beside him, thrown to the muddied landscape, was the outline of a bow.

"I'm not an archer," Hephaestion answered, checking once more to see if the enemy had moved. Even through the anarchy that was erupting around them Hephaestion could hear Cassander laugh. It was no secret that neither of them had been very good with bows. Ptolemy had been the star student when it came to archery, and even that was not saying much, and he was not present to help tutor them. Drawing a quick breath Hephaestion motioned for Cassander to throw him the bow. Cassander was more than willing, throwing the bow and a small quiver of arrows to Hephaestion.

As he put the first arrow into place he felt a screaming pain in his shoulder. Nonetheless, he was able to pull the arrow back and release it. Whether or not he struck his intended target he could not tell, but the clenching muscles in his shoulder told him that he wouldn't be able to continue working with the bow. Tossing the bow down he glanced over at Cassander. Cassander had begun busying himself with hand signals at some of his men. They were seemingly surrounded, being attacked by an unknown number of archers, and where archers perched swordsmen were sure to follow. Cassander hissed at one of his men, and within seconds he was thrown a shield. Upon grabbing it Cassander turned his attention back to Hephaestion.

"You have a better position," Cassander stated, a smirk pulling at his lips. He lifted the shield and then made his way towards Hephaestion, dodging several piercing arrows in the process. Once nearer to Hephaestion, he collapsed.

"Do you have a plan?" Hephaestion asked.

"Of course I do," Cassander answered. "I'm putting it together."

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_Presently..._

Alexander sat, quietly watching the rain that had begun falling once again. He had not moved for several hours and had long since noticed that the cup of honeyed wine in his hand was empty. As Cassander shifted behind him Alexander glanced over his shoulder. For the first time in years it seemed as if Cassander was not invested in gaining Alexander's favor or crown. Instead, for the first time, he seemed genuinely interested only in telling Alexander the events that had occurred –events which greatly explained why Hephaestion had been refusing to speak to Alexander. It was not only that his shoulder ached or that he was tired. Alexander was beginning to understand that he had long ago failed Hephaestion.

"Should I go on?" Cassander asked.

"I don't care how you killed your attackers. I want to know about him. Hephaestion. Tell me what happened, what happened to the children to make him hate me so?"

Alexander could see him, sitting with Ptolemy, positioning himself in a way that he knew the king would not be able to see him. For a moment he envied Ptolemy. Hephaestion had not spoken with him in such a manner for what now felt like a decade. They seemed content despite the fact that they were wearing damp clothes and splashes or rain were still blowing underneath the tarp they'd huddle under. Hephaestion should have remained in with the medics but there were others that needed to be tended to. As soon as Hephaestion realized this there was no way to keep him in the medic's tent. There was also no way to reason with him about sending the physician to his tent either –he'd have none of it. This troubled Alexander, yet he was down to only one solution and he did not want to force anything upon Hephaestion by using his kingship. He had done it before. It had not gotten them anywhere.

Cassander drew in a quick breath, pulling Alexander's thoughts away from Hephaestion and Ptolemy. He knew that there was no threat from Ptolemy, that Ptolemy would not attempt to take Hephaestion's love from him, and he knew time and time again that Hephaestion was loyal. Hephaestion's heart belonged to him alone, and he knew this. However, there was a recent pang when he thought of this, for he was sure Hephaestion had at one time thought the same of him.

"Perhaps if you stopped staring at him," Cassander said, reaching for a piece of chicken that Bagoas had brought in for Alexander. He'd not touched it yet, and Cassander thought the complaints from his stomach were going to overpower his own voice at any moment. Alexander turned to face him, a deep scowl etched on his face.

"I don't mean never look at him again. I only mean that part of the man would like some privacy. It is not a large part of him. For most of his life he's had no problem being your living shadow. For now, let him speak with Ptolemy."

"Does he speak of this?"

"There is no way to know. But I doubt it. I think he speaks with Ptolemy to avoid thinking."

"Ha! To avoid thinking? Ptolemy thinks himself Aristotle's shadow."

"Yes," Cassander said again. "Hephaestion does not feel like thinking, so he'll let his friend speak while his mind wanders."

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_Two days prior..._

Hephaestion slid his hand over his shoulder and pressed against the throbbing pain caused by the bolt in his flesh. Cassander stood behind him, ready to pull out the excess of the wooden shaft that Hephaestion had been unable to reach. They had decided it would be best to leave the rest, in case the wound should begin to bleed if the tip of the arrow was pulled out, for neither knew how to fix such a wound. The crude form of heating a sword and burning the skin closed would work but they had no time. Yet Cassander had a feeling that if he were to mar Hephaestion in such a way it would cost him his head. Hephaestion, on the other hand, was worried that burning it closed could weaken him and he'd be unable to help in any future attack. This had only made Cassander laugh –only Hephaestion could think of defending others when he was near death.

"Ready?" Cassander asked. He did not give Hephaestion time to answer, but snapped the bolt instead. Hephaestion slumped forward and let an unintelligible curse fall from his lips. Cassander surveyed his work. The arrow may have moved a bit within the skin, but there was no flowing blood. There was still enough for the physicians to work with. All in all, he was pleased –mostly with the fact that Hephaestion had not lost consciousness when the tip of the arrow scraped against bone.

"It isn't as bad as it feels."

"We have to find the children," Hephaestion said, as if he had not heard Cassander. "Not to bring them back to prison, but to make sure that they are safe. They warned us, Cassander. Without such warning things would have been worse."

"They are safer without us finding them. If I find them, they will return to what you call prison, and I will, in turn, behead them as ordered."

Hephaestion glanced at Cassander, and then reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. Cassander momentarily sucked in his breath and waited for Hephaestion's next action. Hephaestion ran his thumb over a cut on Cassander's chin, smearing blood over the lower half of his cheek. For the first time in a long time, Cassander did not know what Hephaestion was attempting to tell him without speaking. As he began to frown, Hephaestion moved away from him again. Finally he spoke, cutting through the heavy silence.

"One day you will break Cassander, and the callous man you have attempted to become will fade away." Before Cassander could speak Hephaestion continued, leaving him nothing to do but listen to the hardened words. "I used to pity you for what your father had forced you to become. I would look at you and see Antipater staring back. But I've come to realize that you're not your father. You're a scared boy attempting to find himself. Your hatred for the world is only a defense, and just like the lines of Guagamela, you will be broken."

He left him then, saying nothing more. It would have been advisable to sit and rest but that was not the Hephaestion that Cassander knew. Within seconds he was searching for a horse.

Reaching up Cassander wiped the blood from his face and released a deep sigh. Had Hephaestion not been so captivating he would have let him go. It had nothing to do with knowing that Alexander would execute him should he not return with Hephaestion. Instead, he found himself needing to follow Hephaestion. He could care less about the children. He was interested merely because Hephaestion was willing to risk his life in order to look for a band of renegades. Whatever the blue-eyed general saw was absent to Cassander, absent to a king, absent to all of the others that would not move to help aid in a search.

"Wait," Cassander called. It was enough to get Hephaestion to turn back. "If you're serious about this you shouldn't go alone."

"I don't need your help."

"You do," he insisted. "We don't know what other threats are awaiting us. The rains threaten a landside. You're destined to worsen your shoulder if you're not careful. Perhaps you don't need my help but you've got it. Follow me."

"I won't let you harm them."

A moment of silence passed before Cassander answered. "I know. Don't worry. I don't plan on killing your whelps."

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A/N: Alas, more chapters are on the way! If you have time to leave a review I always welcome comments! I know that several readers have been waiting for years, literally, for me to update this story. Sorry to have let you down! But don't worry –no more timeouts until this and my other story, _Vacationing in Athens_, are marked 'finished'.


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